


The Season of Giving

by SCFrankles



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 16:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5504441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCFrankles/pseuds/SCFrankles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. Hudson's tenant and his friends are behaving even more oddly than usual...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Season of Giving

**Author's Note:**

> Written for WAdvent Open Post Day #5: [Reflections](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/1475243.html), at Watson's Woes on LJ. 
> 
> Holmes and Watson are the creations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> * * *

_December 1889_

Mrs. Hudson was having a few minutes well-earned rest and a strong cup of tea.

She stared into her sitting room fire and was just reminding herself sternly that she did not have time for a nap, when a small movement in the mirror over the fire caught her eye.

Someone had bobbed up briefly behind her chair and then ducked down again.

Mrs. Hudson sprang to her feet and spun round. “Who's there?” she cried. “Show yourself!”

She was both relieved and irritated when a shamefaced Dr. Watson stood up. 

She looked at him coldly. “Can I help you, Doctor?”

He gave her an embarrassed smile. “Er, well. Yes. Mrs. Watson and I have come to visit Holmes and we wondering if we might have tea...”

Mrs. Hudson narrowed her eyes at him. “You could have simply _rung.”_

“Yes. Sorry.”

“And why were you—?”

But Dr. Watson was already hurrying out of the room. 

Mrs. Hudson shook her head and went to make a fresh pot of tea.

 

A little later, after Holmes and his guests had finished their tea, Mrs. Hudson went into the scullery to wash up the fine china.

She had just finished the last saucer when she spotted a strange reflection in the bubbles in the water. 

She looked up.

Mr. Holmes was on the ceiling, clinging onto the clothes airer. 

Mrs. Hudson raised an eyebrow.

“Simply doing some necessary observations,” smiled Holmes. “Absolutely nothing to be concerned about, dear lady!”

Mrs. Hudson sighed. 

She dried her hands firmly and left the scullery.

 

It had been a hectic day, one way and another and Mrs. Hudson was glad to get into bed.

Reaching across to turn out the lamp, she suddenly froze. On the shiny surface of the freshly painted skirting board she could just see the blurred reflection of someone moving about _underneath_ the bed.

Mrs. Hudson flung herself over the edge of the mattress and, upside down, stared at the intruder.

 _“Mrs. Watson!_ What in _blue blaz—_ I mean, what on _earth_ are you doing there?”

Mary Watson crawled out from under the bed and cautiously stood up, smoothing out her skirts. “Well, Mr. Holmes asked me to— That is, Mr. Holmes thought it would be better if I… rather than he or my husband—”

Mrs. Hudson glared at her. 

“I don’t care! You know, I do not want any uninvited guests in my bedroom!” 

She pointed dramatically at the door. 

“Out, madam! Out!”

Mrs. Watson smiled weakly, and exited.

 

Watson, Mary and Holmes met again for tea the following day—this time at the Watsons’ home.

Watson was beaming. “It was an excellent idea of yours, Holmes. Doing a little bit of reconnaissance in order to discover what Mrs. Hudson would like for Christmas.”

Mary nodded eagerly. “John and I have already discussed our separate observations and we have a few suggestions as to what Mrs. Hudson would find acceptable.”

Holmes shrugged. 

“Unfortunately it seems all our efforts will be going to waste. Mrs. Hudson has _told_ me what present she would like this year.” 

He looked down at the note he was holding and frowned. 

“For some unfathomable reason, she says she would like bolts fitted on the inside of all of her doors.”


End file.
